


For I Have Sinned

by hibiren



Series: Jay's Gladnis Collection [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel/Human Relationships, Angels, Blood and Injury, Fallen Angel Ignis Scientia, Fallen Angels, Gladnis, Guardian Angels, Help, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sins, Stitches, Tags May Change, Worry, [[also known as the AU I never thought I'd write but here we are]]
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 06:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16759855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibiren/pseuds/hibiren
Summary: An evening of peaceful reading is interrupted by a mysterious falling light. Gladio discovers that it isn't a meteor that crashed in his yard as he thought but instead, a broken man's body covered in blood and feathers. The fallen Angel, Ignis, doesn't know why he had been cast out of Heaven; only that his sin was deemed so irreparable that no amount of prayer could save his soul. Gladio thinks otherwise and eventually finds a friend and a lover in him and his familiar face...





	For I Have Sinned

**Author's Note:**

> I know I haven't had much time to write lately, but this idea came to me and I thought, why not? I'm by no means a religious person so take this as you will; this is my personal perspective on archetypal "angel" characters, and its application to an alternate universe with Ignis and Gladio. I have a few chapters in mind so stay tuned!

A sudden burst of light in the distant sky drew Gladio’s attention from the book in his hands, his gaze pulled from the pages to the window nearby. The strange light grew brighter by the second, enough to wash the evening dark away as it sped toward the ground. A meteor? Whatever it was, it looked like it was heading directly for his yard…

Gladio closed the book, tossing it aside in his hurry to get out the door and try to figure out exactly what was going on. This light that rushed downward toward him, when he had a better chance to examine it, had a strange shape. Enveloped within the brightness was an almost human shadow, burning with white fire.Two large wing-like shapes dissipated into the flames and left Gladio speechless as he watched. There was just enough time to dash behind a large tree in his yard when the fire crashed into the dirt, scattering grass and embers, smoke blooming threateningly from the aftermath.

When the smoke cleared, Gladio spared a cautious glance at the newly-cratered hole in his yard, where the naked form of the mysterious man lied, curled into himself, unmoving. Embers scattered across the pit yet the man appeared unburned—the only visible injuries were two large and terrifying gashes vertically across his back, oozing with blood and speckled with fragmented feathers.

_ What is going on? _

What was he supposed to do? Gladio frantically questioned, was he dreaming? Was this just some kind of extremely elaborate prank by his sister? No, that couldn’t be the case. Could it? He’d never seen this man in his life… had he? Not to mention… how could someone fall all the way from the sky, on fire, and not be injured? He swore he’d caught a glance of wings, or was he seeing things?

Regardless, there was an injured man in an ashen pit in his yard and Gladio couldn’t just leave him there alone in good conscience. Slowly, Gladio approached, taking extreme care in his steps given the way the ground seemed to collapse and crumble beneath him. Some embers still glowed but the fire was mostly gone now, leaving only soot-marks behind.

“...Hey, are… you okay?” Gladio offered, kneeling in the ashes beside the injured man. He hesitated, hand outstretched, waiting for any response of approval before moving any closer. “You’re hurt… let me help you.”

A weak cough in answer, followed by a hoarse, “...why…?” was all Gladio received in response.

“Why? Well… I can’t just leave you out here, can I?”

The mysterious blond swallowed back a muffled groan, eyes shutting tight as he attempted to shift into a sitting position. Gladio kept his hands on either side of the man, as if shielding him from falling, but kept himself at arms’ distance. It wouldn’t be wise to overwhelm him due to the severity of his injuries, so, one thing at a time, Gladio told himself.

“Hey, take it easy. You, uh… you fell pretty far. And you’ve got some nasty cuts on your back. We should get you inside, get those cleaned up. There isn’t a hospital nearby, but, we’ve got a well-stocked first aid cabinet.” An offered smile seemed to somewhat ease the blond’s pallid, fearful features. “I’m Gladio, by the way. Figured I ought to introduce myself, if... you’d like my help..?”

The man nodded, blond hair sweeping across his forehead, somewhat obscuring his confused, overwhelmed expression. “...Ignis… my name is Ignis.”

“Well, Ignis, let’s get you inside, okay? We can get you some clothes, too, after we get your back cleaned up.”

“...My…” Ignis seemed to trail off, his eyes flickering through a thousand different thoughts until he landed at one: realization. “...my back, oh, no… no, I… I couldn’t have… why… why?!” His hands clawed, awkwardly, reaching, fingers questing for the wings that were no longer there. Only the ghosts of feathers remained, from what hadn’t turned to ash when he fell. Ignis let out an anguished cry as his nails scratched against the broken skin, as if begging for what was lost to come back.

“Hey, hey! Ignis, hey, it’s alright. Please, calm down!” Gladio, no longer thinking of waiting, took hold of Ignis’ convulsing hands and held him firmly, his grip just tight enough to prevent Ignis from further hurting himself, and without his hold adding to the pain. “You’re alright. Whatever happened, you’re alive. And I’ll take care of you, if you’ll let me.” 

“I have to go back! I have to… I can’t… I shouldn’t have… I must have made a mistake… I don’t know what I did! Why did I have to lose my wings?! Why did they have to cast me out?!”

The man was in a state of borderline panic now, and all Gladio knew to do was continue holding onto his wrists, waiting for him to calm enough that they could move somewhere away from the pit. A sense of guilt nagged at him for feeling unable to understand exactly what to do, and how to help.

“Please,” Gladio coaxed, voice low and even as he attempted to keep Ignis’ fear at bay. “It’s alright. No one’s gonna hurt you now. Let’s get you inside, okay? If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you. I want to help. Please… please, let me help.”

Finally going silent, though his body still trembled with restrained torment, Ignis nodded. “It seems… I don’t have a choice. There’s no going back. I’ve been condemned…”

“It’s not that bad here, y’know? Maybe a little empty, sure, but it’s nice.” Gladio offered what calming words came to him, trying to analyze what little information he had and hoping he was offering something helpful. Later, hopefully, at a time Ignis was more coherent, he could understand exactly what just happened.

Ignis let Gladio pull him up enough to carry him on his back toward the house. It was the safest way Gladio could think of to carry him, to not aggravate his injuries any further. And Ignis didn’t move, only to wince occasionally as Gladio carried him up the steps.

Since Iris was away, Gladio had to arrange everything himself. So he set Ignis down on the floor near the couch, quickly paced over to the closet where they kept a few clean towels, and threw them somewhat haphazardly down against the couch so Ignis wouldn’t bleed everywhere (this was also to save them the trouble of extra cleaning later, as well as giving him a clean surface to work on).

When laid against the couch on his side, Ignis hissed softly in pain but bit it back, and Gladio let a hand sympathetically pat against Ignis’ leg. There was one towel left, which he let Ignis drape across himself for modesty’s sake, until they could find him some clean clothes.

“I gotta go get the first aid kit. I’ll be right back.”

Ignis only offered a slow nod in response. Gladio made sure to make each time he left the couch, he made it as brief as possible, but enough to grab everything he thought he’d need each time.

The cleaning process was difficult, mostly from the size of the wounds. And, frustratingly for Gladio, he realized those two large gashes needed stitches. Thankfully they had all the necessary equipment, since Gladio had needed it long ago for the scars on his face. Other than Iris wounding her knee a year ago, the kit hadn’t been needed until now. It was a miracle he’d kept the whole thing...

“Ignis, you’re not gonna like this, but… I gotta stitch these closed, or you’ll bleed out.”

“...Maybe… this is their way of telling me I should die. I’ll serve my time. I must deserve it, for whatever sin I’ve committed…”

“No, no, no, don’t talk like that. You’re here for a reason. If anyone wanted you dead, you’d have died before you hit ground here. Right? Now  _ let me help you, _ goddammit.”

It wasn’t exactly the best form of encouragement he could offer, but his frustrations were starting to trickle through into his tone. As quickly as he could, he tried to bring it back with an apology.

“...Sorry. Look. I just want to help. After we get you bandaged up and healed, you can leave if you want, and you’ll never have to see me again. What you do after is up to you, and it won’t be my business. But if you stay here, you have to listen to me and let me help. That’s all I ask. Is that fair?”

Again, all Ignis could do was nod. He seemed to be in too much pain to do otherwise.

The hardest part of closing the wounds wasn’t the actual stitching, but having to listen to the pitiful cries Ignis tried his best to hide as Gladio worked, slowly, one stitch at a time. Sterilizing everything prior had been the worst of it, and yet, Ignis never let out anything louder than a few quick, sharp gasps for breath. Every time, Gladio would pause and wait for him to work through the pain before continuing. He offered small condolences, but knowing the pain of stitches himself, his heart ached every time Ignis flinched, exclaimed in pain, or struggled to stay still through any particularly painful stitches.

Once the process was finished, Gladio made sure everything was stitched correctly before applying (as gently as he could manage) a healing cream and secured sterile bandaging across his back.

Ignis seemed incredibly thankful for the process to be over. He let out a long groan-laced sigh and Gladio set about packing up the kit, cleaning up all the bloodied bandages and towels he could.

“You holding up okay?” Gladio asked, and Ignis, just barely able to turn his head, gazed with tired but appreciative eyes at the man who’d saved him.

“Thank you, Gladio. You’ve… shown a dead man kindness. I know… I’m no Angel anymore, but, I owe you what little I do have. I’m not exactly fit for guardianship anymore… but let me at least offer you my grateful existence, and my body in service to you. I will be as much help as I can, in this limited form. When… when I’m healed, you may do with me as you wish.” The words seemed genuine, yet rehearsed, as if this had been something he had been subjected to in whatever life it was he’d fallen from.

“Woah, woah! That’s, uh… a little extreme,” Gladio muttered with a frown, eyebrows lowering in thought as he crossed his arms. What would the proper response even be, to someone offering him complete servitude? It seemed inappropriate. “Let’s just… start with friendship. I don’t, uh… I don’t want you to do all that extra stuff. Just focus on healing. Although I suppose when Iris comes back to find out we’ve got a roommate, she’ll be surprised. She’s probably the one you want to talk to about helping out around here. But, promise me you’ll only get to that after you’re fully recovered.”

“Seems like a fair deal.” Ignis, visibly uncomfortable, tried to shift around on the couch as much as he could manage, and when the towel at his waist slipped, Gladio easily caught it, replaced it, and then stood. It wouldn't be good for Ignis to remain like that on the couch. Besides, he'd likely get cold...

“I’ll get you something to wear. Can’t have you naked when my sister gets back.”

Gladio disappeared up the stairs and reappeared after a moment with a handful of clothes that he’d grown out of a while ago, noting the size difference between them.

Helping Ignis into the clothes proved difficult, but not impossible, although great care had to be taken when pulling Ignis’ arms through the sleeves of an old button-down shirt. This, Gladio figured, would be significantly easier than trying to put on a t-shirt or a sweater.

Ignis laid back on his side and the moment his head brushed against the pillow near the armrest, his eyes closed. An exhausted exhale left his lips, and that was when Gladio decided it would be wise to let him rest, to sleep, and hopefully to start recovering.

While Ignis slept, Gladio went about straightening everything he could, cleaning up any stray blood drips or any of the bloodied towels, readying them for the laundry. When Iris came back, Gladio knew he had a lot of explaining to do, but he guessed that after seeing the hole in their yard scattered with ashes and feathers, she wouldn’t be entirely skeptical. He could only hope...

**Author's Note:**

> Perhaps it's the fact that I'd been scrolling through my phone for music while I waited at the airport for my flight home, and the song (forgive me I've had the same growing-diverse music collection since middle school rip) "Alluring Secret, Black Vow" flashed across my screen as I skipped through my playlist. That got me thinking, what if Ignis was a fallen angel, and Gladio was the man who rescued him and that Ignis fell in love with, despite the sins he'd already committed to be cast out of heaven? Thus this idea was born.
> 
> Again as I said in the beginning notes I'm absolutely not a religious person, but the fallen-angel trope is something I find interesting, and challenging to write about, so I thought I'd give it a shot. I hope to get more out soon although the semester is drawing to a close for me. I graduate in--four weeks, help me--and things have been super hectic. I'll be moved out by Christmas though so, hopefully, I'll have a lot more time to write!


End file.
